My sweet, sassy baby is now three. Which I suppose means I should stop referring to her as a baby, but I know I won’t. She says I should keep calling her a baby, except when she’s a grown up.
She is so very full of life, and fire and magic. She’s brave and fearless and shy all at the same time. She told me that her favorite part about today was going to sleep, which is ironic since she’s refusing to go to bed tonight.
I love this child, more than I ever imagined I was capable of, and I’m so glad I get to call her mine.